


Like Strawberry Wine

by Alltheshrinks



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Love, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheshrinks/pseuds/Alltheshrinks
Summary: Jared lives with his uncle and grandfather on a farm, Jensen comes to work for his grandfather one summer.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 57
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

The halls of the Lyndon B Johnson high school are full, the bell has just sounded for the last day of this school year and a throng of anxious and rambunctious teenagers spill into the hall, ready to get started on their summer vacation. 

Jared Padalecki is seventeen, he’s tall and lanky, dark chestnut hair touching his shirt collar and falling into his eyes. This is his next to last year in this hell hole, then he can attend another hell hole in the form of a community college before having the two point five kids, a mortgage, and a wife that he won’t ever be attracted to, but here in southern Texas, he knows that what he considers hot, won’t fly. 

It’s okay though, he hates the city; his dad had gotten promoted two years ago and the family had moved to Houston, but Jared hadn’t adapted. He was too gangly, long, coltish limbs and a too-tall frame that at seventeen, he has just started to fill out. After several run-ins with bullies and countless fights, Jared had moved back to the small town and in with his grandfather. Jared’s grandfather owns a small farm, one that he and Jared, plus Jared’s unmarried, veteran uncle help to keep running these days. 

So lost in his musings, of hot days and hard, manual labor, that Jared doesn’t notice his best friend, since the fifth grade, saddle up next to him and shove against his shoulder. 

“Jay-Man,” Chad Michael Murray says, colliding with his whole body again, his blue eyes glittering mischievously as the cacophony of the student body floods past them on their way to freedom. “We are seniors man, seniors,” it is clear that Chad is just as excited as the rest of their class to be finally done with the year and most of their high school career. 

Jared just smiles at the shorter boy, the top of his head is completely visible with Jared’s last growth spurt shooting him just over six feet. “So, when do think you are going to stop growing?” Chad had asked him during spring break, the taller of the pair’s pants now sitting above his ankles. Jared had shrugged, his dad and brother were both well over the six and a half feet range. 

Chad skids to a halt at the front of Jared turning so that he is directly in his path. “What’s wrong?” Blue eyes drilling into his hazel ones, a thoughtful squint evident in them. “Why aren’t you more excited?” 

Jared sighs, as attuned to his emotions as Chad is, Jared had rather not talk about how down he’s been lately. About how it feels like time is racing by, while Jared stands still, too tired to even attempt to rush after it. He’s content where he is, enough school work and chores to stay busy, but with summer looming, it will be more long, hot days of labor and not enough of an intellectual break. 

He finally acquiesces to the scrutiny of his best friend, “I’m fine, I’m just thinking about all the planting in store for me in the next few weeks and how tired I’m going to be.” Jared’s grandfather had just purchased another plot of land adjoining their farm at a bank sale and he has been planning to plant their own corn and alfalfa for the livestock. 

Chad grimaces, realizing what it is that has Jared so melancholy at the moment. “Yikes, forgot about that.” The blond has the common decency to look sympathetic for the first time since the conversation began. “Look at it this way, all that labor is really bulking you up man. You’ll be a chick magnet by the time that late August rolls around.” He punctuates the sentence by squeezing Jared’s bicep, no longer the thin, bird arms that he has always had. 

Jared shoves Chad’s hand away and swats at the back of his head, which he barely misses. “Get off me,” is the only rejoinder he can come up with, but it doesn’t matter, they have reached the metal, double doors of the school’s entrance and spill out onto the sidewalk with the rest of the student body. 

“Need a ride?” Chad twirls the keys to his ‘87 Camaro in his hands and gives Jared a genuine smile. One that means T-Tops out and music blaring down the road as they chase after that wild, teenage wasteland that they call home. 

Jared only nods, Chad drives like he does everything: Fast and reckless; but that beats the hell out of the smelly, sweaty school bus that would be Jared’s only other option. Not to mention the long walk down their gravel drive in eighty plus temps, its no contest. 

Chad lets out an animalistic growl and then nearly sprints to the student parking lot, Jared’s longer stride making it easy to keep pace. By the time Jared opens the door and slides into the passenger seat, Chad has the engine started and AC/DC pours from the busted and abused speakers. He smiles to himself, just as the car is put into gear and lurches out of the parking space. 

It only takes five minutes before the small block, Chevy engine, and Chad’s heavy right foot puts them out on the highway leading outside of town and on the open road. Brian Johnston screams about shaking all night long, the wind and Chad’s own off-key rendition blasting Jared into sensory overload. These really are the best days of his life. 

As with all good things, the ride comes to an end as Chad guides the car to the gravel driveway and Jared’s farmhouse comes into view. The smaller boy only turns the music down slightly as they stop at almost the back door, Jared’s two dogs already barking at the noise. 

“I’ll call you later,” Jared says as he grabs his backpack and jacket from the backseat and then watching as his best friend speeds away, taking the noise with him. Harley and Sadie jump on him like he has been gone off to war and not just seven hours at school.

“Okay guys, calm down,” Jared drops to his knees, allowing his canine companions to descend on him with paws and scratchy tongues. After several affectionate cuddles and a wet face, Jared forces himself up, the pets still running around him and barking excitedly. “At least someone is glad to see me,” he offers and then drops his belongings inside the kitchen door. 

Harley and Sadie follow along behind Jared as he takes off towards the barn, already wanting to get his feeding done so that he can either read or take his fishing pole down to the river for the afternoon.

It only takes an hour and a half to get all of the calves fed and to check in on the three horses that the farm houses. They don’t have a lot of livestock right now, less than a dozen cows, a couple of goats, a handful of chickens and three Appaloosa horses. With the edition to the land, Jared knows that his grandfather plans to change that. 

Jared changes out of his work boots, which are knee high Muck Boots and back into his beaten Chuck Taylors in the tack room of the barn, before heading across the yard in search of his grandpa. He sees denim clad legs protruding from underneath the Massey-Ferguson tractor at the shed’s door. 

The tractor has been broken down since the middle of spring and whether or not his grandfather admits it, they probably need a new one. As Jared gets closer to the visible legs, he realizes they are too small to be the sturdy ones that belong to his guardian, so his uncle must be tinkering with the piece of machinery. 

“Uncle David? Have you seen gramps?” He says as he moves closer to the prone man. 

From underneath the frame of the tractor he hears a bang and an angry, “Son of a bitch!” Jared doesn’t have time to process anything before the body belonging to said limbs comes into view. His mouth runs dry when two strong and corded biceps, stretching out a black tee shirt, clutch at the derelict vehicle’s metal cab. The arms are tan and covered in engine grease and do not belong to his uncle. 

Time slows down when the man’s face comes into view, Jared starts at his cute dimpled chin and then stops on the plumpest, plushest lips that he has ever seen. That mouth is a thing of beauty, something that even a porn star would be jealous of. Jared knows he is staring, but he can’t help it. The lips are moving, but all he can hear is the blood rushing to ears. 

“Hey? Up here, there we go.” The stranger directs his gaze off of his mouth and up into a pair of emerald eyes that almost seem iridescent. 

Jared shakes the cobwebs loose from his brain and forces himself to stop staring. “Hey, sorry about your head.” He points to where the other man, who looks just a couple of years older than Jared, is rubbing his temple. 

The boy, young man if Jared wants to get technical, waves off the apology. “It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be around. Harold and David went into town, but you must be Jared.” A rag is taken from his back pocket to remove some of the grease before the guy offers a hand, “I’m Jensen and I’m working here this summer.”

Jared accepts the warm, calloused hand, closes his own large, long fingers around the appendage and gives it a firm handshake. Jared is still confused about the man working here for the summer, they have never hired help before, but with the expansion it is probably a good thing. “I am Jared,” he nods his head in agreement and then catches himself staring again. 

Jensen is tall, almost the same height as Jared, has brown hair that has sun-kissed highlights, standing up in spikes. There are a few errant freckles splattered across the bridge of a straight nose the leads to a perfect Cupid’s bow. He’s tanned, his tight tee-shirt not able to hide the muscles of his arms and torso, all balance on a pair of defined and slightly bowed, muscular legs, apparent even in their denim wrappings.

Jensen is still talking, but Jared swears all he hears are harps and angels singing. He is seventeen, has zero experience with love, but he knows that he is already head over heels for the man in front of him. This summer just got a whole lot more interesting. 

“So Jared?” Jensen says with a megawatt smile that makes Jared’s knees weak and his stomach plummet. “What is there to do around here for fun?”

Jared takes a calming breath, the most exquisite human being on the planet is speaking to him and Jared thinks that he might just die on the spot. “Well, there isn’t that much excitement here, there is the Marquee down on tenth street and the arcade a little closer to the school, but that’s about it.”

Jensen smiles again and that smile could definitely light up the whole town and surrounding counties, it is painfully attractive and at the same time adorable and stick a fork in Jared because he’s done. He is completely, totally enamored with the older man and he’s known him all of five minutes. “Yeah, doesn’t sound like much going on here in the way of fun, but that’s cool, man. I’m here to work anyway.”

Jared returns the grin, all pink cheeks and a shy ducking of his head, he wonders absent-mindedly if Jensen has any idea how attractive he actually is. He probably does, no way he looks like this and isn’t aware of the effect he has on people around him. 

“What part of Texas are you from?” Jared asks, picking up on the lazy lilt of his companion. 

“Originally? Richardson. I’ve been in Austin the last three years at UT, doing odd jobs in the summer to help pay for it.” Jensen answers thoughtfully, “what about you, Jared? You lived here your whole life?”

Jared normally doesn’t warm up to strangers this quickly. Hell, there are people that he has known his whole life that he still doesn’t feel as comfortable with as he does with Jensen right now. “Yeah, except for two years that I lived in Houston with my parents.”

“Why aren’t you with them right now?” There is genuine curiosity in the older man’s voice. 

Jared hesitates, rubs the back of his neck, the vinyl toe of his Converse shoe kicks a stray rock against the dirty ground. 

“It’s okay,” Jensen says, “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Jared breathes deeply, exhaling out his nose, he wants to tell Jensen. “The city and the school didn’t exactly agree with me, so my parents sent me back to live with my grandpa. I love this farm.”

Jensen bites his lip, letting the words sink in, “It is a very nice place, nice view. “

Jared blushes, the flutter in his stomach doubles its tempo and he thinks that people on the space station can probably see it. There is no way that Jensen isn’t aware of the effects that he has on him. He clears his throat and forces his frustration down. “What are you studying?” 

“I’m pre-vet, been working on farms the last couple of summers, getting hands on experience.” Jensen answers, turning that smile on again. “Anyway, I need to get back to it, I promised your grandfather that I could get it up and running.”

Jared snorts, “Good luck, man. That thing was on it’s last leg when I was born.” 

Jensen catches his eye again, the sparkle there is undeniable as he offers a lopsided smirk, “I’m really good with my hands, we’ll see.” 

Jared is not dumb enough to think that the implication was coincidental and feels the tips of his ears start burning as his cheeks flush a bright scarlet. He is in so much trouble. 

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of rubber on gravel and the creaking under-carriage of Harold Padalecki’s farm truck coming up the road, kicking up a cloud of dust as it makes its trek closer to them. 

Once the vehicle has come to a complete stop, the two tall men exit the truck and make their way the few feet from across the small yard to the shed. 

“I see you two have met,” Harold takes in both of the young men across the space, “Good, I have some feed to be unpacked.” The patriarch of the family is a man of few words. He isn’t affectionate, nor is he one to display emotion, but Jared has learned that he is one of the kindest, most giving people on the planet. Opening his home to a teenager after his own children had been grown for many years proved that fact. . 

Harold stands at six feet, six and a half inches tall, he has dark brown hair that he keeps cut extremely short, and Jared has never seen him with more facial hair than a five o clock shadow after a long day at work. His shoulders are broad, with long limbs and a tapered waist that has expanded slightly with age. He is a mountain of a man. 

David doesn’t say anything, just adjusts his snapback hat on his head, pushing his own dark hair that curls around his ears and into his eyes back out of the way, before walking a few feet to the bed of the vehicle, letting the tailgate down. David is six feet four and two-hundred pounds of farm made muscle. His legs are long and lean, looking almost scrawny compared to that of his upper torso and body. 

Jensen is already moving towards the other men, grabbing one of the fifty pound bags in his hand and reaching for another before he follows David, carrying his own bags towards the shed. 

Jared watches how the muscles in the other boy’s arms flex and strain against the weight of the feed sacks, as Jensen carries them effortlessly towards their destination. He’s completely lost in his own fantasies of those strong forearms when his grandfather clears his throat. The youngest of the quartet feels his face burn as he shakes the images away and picks up his own bags. 

“Those are heavy, son,” Harold admonishes as Jared balances the second bag on his left shoulder. “I need you this summer, you give yourself a hernia and there will be hell to pay.”

Jared smiles at the gruff chastisement, adjusting the bags and hurrying into the building. They are heavy, but the bulk that Jared has picked up in the last two years makes the work light and easy. 

“Any luck with the tractor?” Harold asks Jensen in passing, the younger of the pair already returning for another load. 

“Yes, sir. I think I can have it going in the morning, provided the men at the parts store sent the right part.” There is sweat running into his face and dripping from his temples and Jared wants to know what it would taste like to lick it off. 

So absorbed in that thought that Jared doesn’t notice all of the bags are unloaded until he goes to grab at an empty truck bed. “What’s eating you?” David says, thoughtfully, using his bandana to wipe the perspiration off of his own brow; Jared has no desire to taste it. 

“Huh?” Is the only thing that Jared can get out, as eloquent as he usually is, the words refuse to come. 

“You’ve been acting weird,” David says slowly, returning his handkerchief to his back pocket and closing the gate on the truck bed. 

“Weird?” Jared parrots, hiding another flush, “no weird, I mean, nothing.” 

His uncle laughs, head tossed back and dimples on display and Jared also concludes that this is going to be a long summer. He wonders if he will be in a constant state of embarrassment from now on. David slings one strong arm around him and tugs him in, resting a warm hand on the side of his neck and dragging Jared towards the farm house. “It’s your turn to cook dinner.”

Jared leans into the familiar touch and groans, “I burn everything, I don’t know why you make me cook.”

“Because we all pull our weight around here,” Harold answers from behind him, pulled from his own conversation with their new arrival. 

Jared doesn’t answer, just nods. This was one of the stipulations of coming to live at the farm. They all share in the cooking, cleaning and laundry. It is the only way that three men can make this work and Jared usually doesn’t mind doing his share. 

“I hope you don’t have a sensitive stomach,” David says to Jensen as he opens the back door that leads to the kitchen, ushering Jared in ahead of him. 

“No, sir.” Jensen shakes his head. 

“Good, and don’t call me sir, I work for a living.” David replies, not unkindly, a gentle reminder of the life he lived before returning home to the peace and quiet of the farm. 

David shows Jensen up stairs to the bedroom that he will be staying in, it has already been decided that he and Jensen will share a room, since there is a set of bunk beds as well as the full-size bed that David sleeps in the room. After Jensen stores his duffle bag, he leads the younger man to the bathroom and shows him the tricks of the shower and where to get a towel. 

By the time they are all showered and presentable, Jared has dinner almost ready. Jared is a decent cook, he’s not going to win Iron Chef and self-deprecation aside, there are generally no complaints. In all honesty, the Padalecki men will eat anything. 

He’s made a pretty basic lasagna, tossed a salad and made garlic bread when Jensen and his uncle make their way back into the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?” Jensen asks, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. 

“No, I’ve got it,” Jared answers. “Unless you want to set the table.” 

Jensen pushes off of the counter and replies, “Show me where the plates and silverware are.” 

Jared directs the other man to the cabinet and drawers with the cutlery and Jensen goes to work on setting the four place settings around the round, wooden table. The house has an open plan kitchen/dining area, a large china cabinet that belonged to Jared’s grandmother sits in the corner and a large picture window that lends a view to the back yard bathes the table in light. The white and yellow checked, seer-sucker curtains that were hung by the matriarch of the Padalecki cover the window, but don't block out much light. The place looks shockingly the same as when Eva, Harold’s wife, was still living. 

Harold is watching the news when Jared calls him in for dinner, they only have an antenna and the eight channels that they get are not really filled with the type of content that Jared usually wants to watch. 

After the four men sit, Harold looks over at Jensen, who is seated across from him, between David and Jared. “Jensen? You want to say grace?” 

If the young man is shocked by the request, he hides it well, bowing his head and delivering a well-worded and respectful blessing of their dinner and for finding a job for the summer. 

Jared finds himself glancing at Jensen from the corner of his eye and through the fringe of his hair, that is hanging in his face from bowing his head. The other boy licks his lips as he prays and Jared feels the action in the pit of his stomach. 

After the “Amens” are sounded from all around the table, the quartet passes around dishes and condiments to each other and tuck in to the meal

“So Jensen, you said you worked in Galveston last year? How big of a farm was that?” Harold asks, passing Jared the basket of bread. 

Jensen swallows the food that is in his mouth before he replies, “It was good size, they had a few hundred head of Longhorns and a pretty good-sized herd of dairy cows.”

“Were you not interested in returning there this summer?” David asks, spooning a large portion of pasta and sauce onto his plate. 

Jensen laughs, “Well, I would have, if that had been my only option, but milking really isn’t my favorite. I’ve worked in hay, tobacco and done my share of farm work, but milking several hundred heads, twice a day? It’s not only back breaking, it’s monotonous.”

Harold considers his answer, “Well, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders and are getting your schooling, so hopefully back breaking work won’t be in your future.” 

“I don't mind the work, but I love animals and I’d really like to take care of them.” Jensen replies. 

“You and Jared will get along well, he'd have a whole zoo of animals if I’d let him. Those two mongrels that he does have are useless as guard dogs or anything else, unless they try and drown the crooks with slobbers.” If Harold notices how red Jared gets, he ignores it. 

After dinner, Jensen volunteers to help Jared with the dishes, “It’s alright, I don’t mind doing them,” Jared says, but of course he ignores him. 

“I’ll wash and you dry,” Jensen turns on the sink and grabs the bottle of blue dish detergent from the counter. 

Jared picks up the dish towel, trying to find something to talk about. “You really travel all over to work on farms during the summer?” 

Jensen rinses a plate and hands it to the younger man, “I have been for the last three summers, looks good on my applications for veterinarian school, plus, the money isn’t bad.”

“What do you do during the school year?” Jared doesn’t mean to sound nosy, but he wants to know everything about the boy standing next to him. 

“I have a tuition scholarship and grants help me get by, plus I will generally work on people’s cars for them for cheaper than most garages will, I get by,” Jensen keeps washing and handing Jared the rinsed dishes while they talk about Austin and what it is like living in the city. 

“What about you Jared? What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jensen hands off the last knife that is in the sink and pulls the drain to let the soapy, lukewarm water out. 

Jared ducks his head, face suddenly warm and flushed, “I have no idea, always figured that I’d just stay here with gramps and Uncle David, help them run the farm.”

Jensen gazes at the boy next to him, he’s tan, arms starting to fill out and shoulders that will probably be as broad as the other men in his family; right now he has a sweet, boyish face hidden behind that shock of chestnut waves. He is already so stunning, but give him a year or so and he will have his pick of women or men. “Nothing wrong with doing that, it’s honest work. Someone has to do it, you said you loved the place, I don’t see anything to be embarrassed about.”

Jared picks that moment to look up from under his eyelashes, his hazel eyes are a stormy gray right now, a simmering heat in them that sets Jensen on fire. He clears his throat, the kid is seventeen, he can not go there. 

Dishes done and Jared grabs a book off of his dresser, settling in to read about Robert Langdon and the Illuminati, when he hears the soft sounds of a guitar being strummed down the hall. He places his book mark carefully between the pages and lays it down on the nightstand. 

The room that his uncle is sharing with the newcomer is just across the hall, the door is open and Jensen is sitting on the bottom bunk, picking out a song that Jared recognizes but can’t place. Seeing that he has an audience, Jensen stops playing, looking up at the teen. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you,” he looks less like the male model than he did early and more like a nervous young man. 

“You’re good, I like it,” Jared says, it's his turn to make the other man blush, a pretty pink tint rising up his neck and even darkening the tips of his ears. 

Jensen rubs the back of his neck with one hand, getting even redder than he had been, “It's just a hobby that I picked up, I’m not much on tv and being in the middle of the country doesn’t offer much in the way of excitement.”

Jared nods, he understands completely, it is one of the reasons that he has a large number of paperbacks to keep occupied. What makes Jared go back in his room and retrieve his book, he doesn’t know, but he does it and climbs up into the top bunk and settles down to read while Jensen noodles out snatches of songs and melodies; Jared recognizes some, others he does not.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared wakes to the sound of the rooster crowing, the smell of Folgers drifting into his room and assaulting his hazy, sleep muddied brain. His bed is cozy, safe and Jared doesn’t want to get up, but thoughts of his grandpa dragging him out of bed and his insistent bladder makes the decision for him; he flings the covers back, stretching and allowing a long yawn to fill his lungs with oxygen. 

The teen pads down the hall to the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush, he brushes, rinses, and washes up before heading back to his room to get dressed for the day. 

Harold, David, and Jensen are all sitting at the kitchen table when Jared stumbles into the room, plates of eggs and bacon on the table and his grandpa reading the morning paper. Jared makes a beeline for the coffee pot and pours himself a steaming cup. 

“Fence past the pond needs some tending to,” Harold says, shuffling the paper and glancing at Jared, who is still leaned up against the counter, barely this side of awake. Jared nods, another yawn taking over his body as he tries to shake off the last vestiges of slumber from his foggy head. 

“If you're that tired, maybe you should go to bed earlier,” David offers from behind his coffee mug.

Jared doesn’t react, he had gone to bed shortly after ten the night before but had laid staring at the ceiling for hours before his chaotic thoughts died down enough for him to catch a few hours of rest. Jared envies people who can close their eyes and fall asleep right away, it is one of the best parts about manual labor; his exhausted body overrides his racing thoughts and drags him down into unconsciousness quickly. Last night he had been thinking about the young man seated at the table, who doesn’t look much more awake than Jared feels. 

Jared shoves eggs and bacon between two pieces of toast and downs his coffee, he opens the back door and is greeted with wagging tails and barks from Harley and Sadie as he walks to the barn to grab their food. Once they are fed and given clean water he changes his shoes and heads towards the horses, yanking a bale of straw down to give them. 

The sun is up and the temperature outside is pleasant, but Jared knows that in a few hours, it will be sweltering out. He is getting ready to head out to the fence, hammer, and toolbox already in hand when he hears the dilapidated engine of their tractor cough and roar to life. 

Jared leaves the back of the barn and walks around to where Jensen and David are high-fiving each other, their obvious delight is drowned out by the noise coming from the ancient motor. Harold looks pleased, he is clearly not as enthusiastic as the other two men. 

Jensen is sitting in the seat of the piece of machinery, his smile broad, bright and eyes crinkled up at the corners. He is glowing in the stark light coming from the morning sun and Jared can’t look away. Jensen meets his eyes, his smile only faltering slighlty, but then the older boy directs his attention back to whatever David yelling over the running contraption. Jared takes that as his cue, he returns to his four-wheeler, tools secured properly and sets out across the field to the fence in question. 

  
  


*******

  
  


To say that late May in Texas is hot, is the biggest understatement of the century; the temps will rise up into the high eighties, where they willl stay until well after sundown. June and July will bring heat and humidity with them and a good number of storms as well. 

Jared has already pulled off his shirt, the sun is high in the sky and he figures it is somewhere around noon, when he finally takes a break from replacing a couple of rotted posts from their goat pen. The water in his insulated bottle isn’t ice cold, but it is wet and does it’s job of quenching his thirst. Harley and Sadie are both laying a few feet away under the lone Box Elm that is casting a blessed shadow from the oppressive sunlight. 

Jared hears the truck approaching, turns briefly to glimpse at it before going back to work, telling himself that it must be lunch time. The brakes squeak a little when the truck stops a few feet away and Jared turns to see Jensen climbing out of the cab. 

Jensen doesn’t grant him more than a cursory look before rounding the truck with a cooler in his hands. He takes down the tailgate, which is now parked under the shade from the tree. “Harold said to bring you lunch,” is the only thing he says as he hops up on the lowered barrier and pats the metal next to him. 

Jared is soak with perspiration, his jeans are clinging to his sweaty legs and the salt is stinging his eyes, but one look at the other boy seated on the end of the truck and he swears the temperature rises at least ten degrees. He still grabs his shirt off of the railing and forces his arms through the sleeves. When he turns around, Jensen is staring back at him with a perplexed look on his face, lip pulled tightly between his incisors Jared thinks that this is how he is going to die. 

The younger boy approaches the truck, takes the wet wipes that are next to the cooler, methodically cleaning each digit with much more focus than should be required to disinfect the appendages. It keeps him from staring at the beautiful boy before him.

Jared throws the wipe in the bed of the truck and then accepts the bottle that Jensen hands him. “Thanks,” is all he can force out as the coolness of the container meets the warm skin of his calloused hand. 

The silence stretches on for what feels like forever, just the rattling of the wax paper that the sandwiches are in and the opening of a bag of Doritos to fill the void. It isn’t really an awkward silence, it is actually kind of nice to sit here with Jensen. 

“I hope you like ham,” the older boy says, pulling the paper back and taking a tentative bite of the meat and bread. 

Jared nods around a mouthful of his own bite, breakfast was awhile ago and he hadn’t realized just how famished he was. The sandwich is just bread, ham and Miracle Whip, but it tastes like filet mignon right now. 

There is sweat beaded up on Jensen’s upper lip and at his temples when Jared glances over, thoughtfully chewing his food. The cooler is between them on the tailgate, but Jared can swear he can feel the heat coming off of the older boy’s body. The boy in question lays his wrapped sandwich down on a denim covered thigh and uncaps the lid to the water bottle that is dripping condensation onto his lap. When he leans his head back, eyes closed and takes an ample, slow pull from the container, Jared is mesmerized. Jensen’s neck is long, graceful and his Adam’s apple bobs with the action and it doesn’t take much for his teenage brain to drum up other scenarios that cause the same movement.

  
  
  


If Jensen notices him staring, he doesn’t react, just puts the cap back on the bottle and looks out over the pond, the sun is reflecting off the surface of the water, a bright glint that has them both squinting against the glare. 

“So,” Jensen finally looks over, after the silence stretches out for an eternity. “Any special girls in town that have caught your eye?”

Jared tries not to blush from the question, he is a guy and guys talk about sex, alot. He is, however, woefully inexperienced, having only kissed a few girls behind the bleachers or at Jr. High parties. He finds that he trusts Jensen and wants to tell him the truth. “Nah,” is what he decides on saying, trying his best to steady the shakiness in his voice. 

“A free agent, huh? Keeping your options open? Smart move,” Jensen finishes his water and rests his palms on the inside of the grooved truck bed, tilting his body back and closing his eyes. 

  
  


*******

  
  


Life on the farm passes, Jensen settling in to the group like he has always been there, he cooks a mean meatloaf and helps Jared fold the laundry even when it isn’t his turn. Evenings find Jared laying on the top bunk, absorbed in whatever best seller he’s reading while Jensen plays and sometimes croons. Some nights the pair go out on the porch, Jensen sitting in the aged glider and Jared laying back on the porch swing, one leg beneath him and one dangling on the stone of the porch. Jensen plays well and his voice is nice. 

The two of them fix fences, feed and tend to the livestock like a well oiled machine, always laughing about something, fond smiles playing on their lips. 

The beginning of June starts out with temperatures well into the nineties, it hasn’t rained in weeks and Harold seems to be on pins and needles about the new crop of corn they planted before memorial day. 

Sundays are deemed mandatory rest days, besides feeding the animals, the boys are left to their own devices. Jensen often uses the time to wash his own clothes and makes a few phone calls, Jared wonders if he is calling his girlfriend back home or maybe his mother; he never asks though, too afraid of the answer. 

Jared taps on the door frame of his uncle’s room, seeing Jensen sitting on the bottom bunk with a note book on his lap. “You busy?” Jared questions meekly, after the other boy looks up. 

“Umm,” Jensen closes the cover on the book in his hands, and clears his throat, “No, not really. What’s up?” 

Jared could fall into his eyes and stay there forever, instead he just smiles, all pink and shy before saying, “The river is close by, we could go fishing or swimming if you want.”

Jensen puts his book back in his back pack that is sitting next to him on the bed and rises. “Let me get my shoes.”

They pack a picnic lunch, pile into Jared’s grandfather’s truck, buy minnows and night crawlers at the bait store on the way there, Jared turning the truck off the main road right before they get to a sign the says  _ Boat Dock two miles.  _

“Why are we turning off here?” Jensen asks, the road is not the best in the world, but it seems to be a well traversed path. 

“Because that is where everyone goes, this place is better, trust me.” Jensen doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Jared parks the truck when it becomes clear that the rest of the road was not meant for travel by cars. They retrieve the canvas chairs and other accessories from the bed of the truck and make their way over the hillside. The bank of the river is shaded by the large trees that grow in abundance here, the thick folige creating a lush oasis, the warm breeze blowing off the water granting a reprieve from the hot rays of the sun. 

Everything tucked away in this little slice of paradise is perfect, until Jared goes to pass a hook through the top of one of the tiny fish they bought as bait. “What’s wrong?” Jared asks, noticing Jensen’s sudden scowl. 

“Nothing, I just feel bad for the little guy is all,” Jensen answers, his usual iron composure slipping slightly. 

Jared gives him a pensive look, “You eat meat, Jensen,” Jared says, not wholly unkind. 

“I know,” the older of the pair shrugs his shoulders, “I try and eat only what has been treated humanely, though. Shoving a hook into one guy to capture another guy, seems cruel.”

Jared wants to laugh, but the odd short of way that Jensen is staring at him gives him pause and he ends up tossing the tiny creature into water, followed by dumping the whole pail that cost thirty-three cents a piece into the river. 

When the taller boy goes to grab the box of night crawlers, Jensen tries not to react, but Jared knows its the same thing as the minnows and shakes his head, “You know, this turned into rescue mission, that was a whole days worth of my allowance.”

The smile the other man gives him is completely worth it though, his eyes twinkling even in the shade, “I’ll pay you back.”

They strip down to swimming trunks, Jared shows Jensen a large rock that he and Chad use to dive off of. The water is still pretty chilly, even though it has been relatively warm outside. Their bodies acclimate quickly and it isn’t long before they are splashing each other and wrestling in the water. Jensen’s upper body is tanned and muscled, a dusting of freckles covering the golden skin. 

Once they burn off enough calories from treading water and horseplay, Jared decides it’s time for lunch. The make their way back to the shore, where fluffly towels and food awaits them. Jared dries off and offers Jensen a wrapped sandwich before pulling out a label less bottle with dark red liquid in it. 

Jensen eyes it warily as Jared pulls the cork out with his teeth and takes a healthy swallow. When he goes to hand it to Jensen, the older boy hesitates, “What is that?” 

“It’s Strawberry Wine, made from our own berries,” Jared answers. “We used to let people pick them for a fee and one of our customers makes the best wine. Grandpa doesn’t drink the stuff, and Uncle David says it’s too sweet. There are two whole cases in the basement, I brought some.”

Jensen takes the proffered bottle and holds it up towards the river, letting the light pass through the red liquid. Its translucent, nothing floating in beverage. The whiff he takes smells like fermented strawberries so he takes an experimental swig. It’s tart, the bittersweet flavor bursting on his taste buds as he lets the alcohol slide down his throat. “It’s good,” he decides. 

Not being used to drinking finds Jared more buzzed than he would have thought from just the bottle of the sweet nectar, the blush on his cheeks and the light-hearted laugh that passes his lips is music to Jensen’s ears. 

The alcohol makes Jared brave as well, Jensen has his head tilted back in on of the camp chairs, his towel draped over his lap and Jared stares unabashedly. “So Jensen, any special girls back home capture your attention?”

Jensen wets his lips and opens his eyes, the look he gives Jared is indecipherable and Jared quickly scolds himself for asking. When Jensen finally opens his mouth, his voice is low and has a lazy lilt to it, “Nah, I don’t swing that way.”

Jared lets the words sink in, realization slamming into him like wrecking ball and sending his world into a tailspin. Despite the alcohol coursing through his body, Jared is hyperaware of everything. He smells the damp underbrush mixed with sweat and Coppertone, the gentle breeze blowing over his slightly sun-burned nose and can taste the salt from his own body and the river water. 

Jensen is staring back at him, the air charged with current, his green eyes almost glowing, “I think you might know something about that.”

Jared panics, “I’m...I just…” he can’t answer. No one has ever called him on preference before and it terrifies him. “How did you?” is what he elects to say. 

Jensen takes forever to answer, “Whenever we go into town, you never look at any of the girls there. Molly? Whose parents own the feed store? She likes you.”

Jared gapes openly, “Molly and I have been friends since pre-K, we are friends, that’s all.” The younger of the pair’s face lights up again with that adorable flush and it is quickly becoming Jensen’s favorite shade.

“Maybe so, but she likes you. I mean likes, likes you.” Jensen is smirking that lopsided grin that turns Jared’s stomach to lead and his head to cotton. All he can do is dunk is head to hide his embarrassment. 

When he finally lifts his gaze, Jensen is staring at him with a look that is fond and slightly curious, “Don’t worry, Jay, I won’t tell. It would be kind of hypocritical for me to hold that against you.”

Jared wants to fall into that smile and stay there for an eternity. He has never felt more alive and more seen than he does in this moment, with this beautiful boy that he has only known for a few weeks. 

  
  


*******

  
  


The last week in June brings in the county fair, all four members of the Padalecki farm work diligently to clean up the animals that will be entered into the livestock competitions and some of the bigger and better varieties of Harold’s vegetable garden. 

Jensen sticks his head into Jared’s room as Jared is slipping his feet into well loved, but cared for boots. The black leather is soft and clean, his brand new Wranglers are actually a little bit too long, completely covering his boots except for the toes. He’s wearing a red and tan plaid shirt, with metal snaps instead of buttons, undone all the way down to his sternum. The seer-sucker fabric pulled tight over his biceps, where the short sleeves end, he looks good. 

Jared runs a hand through his messy locks, which are just starting to touch his shirt collar, “Let me grab my wallet…” the look on Jensen’s face stops him. The older boy’s eyes are simmering, there is just a hint of green left to them, his pupils blown wide open. 

“I think I might be under-dressed,” is all Jensen can muster, glancing down at his own black t-shirt that has a slight V at the neck, his jeans are worn and holey, but clean, and his work boots are devoid of any mud or other debris. 

Jared take a moment to look Jensen over, the way the fabric of his shirt clings to the muscles and definition of his body, his hair gelled up and spiked in a messy fashion that he doesn’t bother with normally. Want and need flood into Jared’s soul in a way that he has never had happen before. “I think you look nice,” Jared groans internally at how cheesy he sounds, hoping Jensen won’t call him on it. 

Jensen’s car is a 1968 Camaro in midnight blue that has been sitting under the car port since he arrived on the farm. It wasn’t practical to haul feed or pick up supplies in, so they always take Harold’s beat up pick-up. Jensen had pulled the automobile out earlier and washed all of the dust that had settled on it from the fields, waxed it to a luminous shimmer, the white of the tires and chrome door handles shining out in the afternoon sun. 

“We’re talking your car?” Jared says when Jensen directs him towards the passenger side. 

“Yeah, that is if you can fit,” comes the cheeky reply, Jared’s second growth spurt of the year has left him a good inch and a half taller that the other male. 

“That’s what she said,” Jared quips, stealing the juvenile rejoinder from his best friend, Chad. 

Jensen shakes his head, eyes sparkling with crinkles all around them, “Might be what he said.” the delight is evident on his face as Jared feels his cheeks burning again. “Get in, come on.”

“Also what he said,” Jared throws out as he slides in against the black leather seats of the car, inhaling the Armour All and Black Ice air freshener hanging from the knob of the radio. 

The car starts up with a throaty growl, all eight cylinders pounding out a hammering rhythm that could wake the dead, it idles down into a rumbling groan that vibrates Jared’s body through the material of the seats. Chad is going to be so jealous. 

Jensen slams his door and releases the clutch, allowing the gorgous muscle car to ease out onto the gravel drive, careful to not kick up too much dirt or rocks as they make their way towards the highway. 

When Jensen turns onto the highway, he turns the radio up loud, his speakers are not shoddy like the abused ones of Chad’s car. Steppenwolf howls about smoke and lightning as the exhaust echoes against the asphault. Jared looks over to see the rapturous expression on his companion’s face, he tries in vain to temper the feelings of heat and want in the pit of his chest. Jensen is just passing through for the summer, he can’t let his heart get involved to just get broken. 

They park in the designated lawn of the fair grounds, Jensen parking as far away from other cars as possible to discourge door dings or other hazards to the sleek paint job of the vehicle. Just before Jared goes to slide out of the car, Jensen grabs his wrist. Jared is confused until he sees that the other boy has a flask in his hands. 

“What’s that?” Jared already knows the answer. 

“It’s liquid courage,” Jensen takes a healthy gulp before handing it off to Jared. 

Jared nearly chokes on his first swallow, it definitely is not Strawberry Wine. The beverage burns all the way down to the tips of his toes, but he ignores it and takes another swig of the stout drink. 

“Easy killer, that’s moonshine,” Jensen laughs, taking the flask back and another healthly gulp. “I’m not going to jail in bumfuck Texas for contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” he quips, putting the cap back on his metal flask. 

“I’ll be eighteen in a month,” is Jared’s reply, getting out of his side of the car. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Jared slides out of the car and shuts the door, Jensen is already several steps ahead of him on the way into the fairway, the popcorn and smoking barbecue wafting through the moist air of the evening. There’s dew forming already on the grass and the scent of the country air hangs heavy on everything as the pair make their way towards the ticket booth. 

Molly Jacobs, who is red-haired and pretty as a picture, is sitting behind the glass of the small shack, she straightens up when she notices them approaching. There is a controlled smile pulling at her strawberry, glossed lips when Jensen takes out his wallet and says.”Hey Molly.”

The girl practically preens, a pink hue rising up her neck and resting on the perfect apples that make up her rosy cheeks. ‘Hi,” her voice is a little higher pitched than normal, but Jared ignores it; he gets flustered by Jensen all the time. “What can I get you?”

The older of the pair removes two ten-dollar bills and places them in the perfectly manicured, passion pink clutches of the girl before them. “Give us a couple of those wrist bands,” Jensen’s smile could give the sun a run for its money, all white teeth and a hint of dimples shining through the couple of days of stubble present on his face. 

Molly takes the money and puts it into the locked cash box in front of her before pulling off two of the strips of brightly colored paper that serve as admission to all of the rides and booths. “Here you go guys,” she says and deposits the bracelets into Jensen’s waiting palm. 

“Thanks, Molly.” Jared offers, giving her a bright smile, even though Jensen’s insistence that she likes him makes him want to turn tail and run the other way. 

Jensen grabs Jared’s wrist, the skin already damp from sweat as he gently loops the paper at the base of the younger man’s hand. Jared tries not to react to the way that Jensen is holding his arm, but it's an impossible feat to achieve; static electricity zips through the skin and Jared feels like he touched an electric fence. Jensen doesn’t allow his fingers to linger any longer than necessary, just sticks the adhesive on the material together and let's go. He hands the other one to Jared, with his wrist out for the favor to be returned. 

Jared makes quick work of putting the band on Jensen’s arm and then thanks Molly, before ushering the older boy through the stacked up hay bales that serve as pillars for the entrance to the grounds. 

The lights and sounds from the carousel blare out on Jared’s right, Jensen herding him across the grass and through the maze of attractions that are bunched up in the area. Roasting peanuts and arcade buzzers permeate the haze of alcohol that is settling inside Jared’s chest, a stark contrast to the coolness of the sweat that is   
saturating his shirt collar from his neck. 

“What do you want to do first?” The mischievous glint in the shorter boy’s eye gives him the appearance of a six-year-old in a candy store and Jared immediately knows that he is in trouble. 

“Funnel cake,” Jared says like that had been his intention all along, while he cranes his neck to find the concessions. It doesn’t take more than a cursory inspection to find and join the line in question. 

“Of course you are thinking of food,” Jensen quips, fondly, but making no further protests; it only takes a few minutes until they are placing their orders and watching as another teenager is pouring the batter into the hot grease of the deep frier. 

Once both have their pastries, Jared’s with powdered sugar and chocolate syrup and Jensen’s just with the sugar, they make their way past the novelty booths and smaller rides until Jensen nods his head at the games of skill that are all bunch together on one side. Jared’s lip is shiny with sugar and grease, the confectioner's powder sticking to the flesh just under and Jensen feels the blood pool low in his stomach at the sight. He quickly clears his throat and shoves the simmering desire down. “Want to try our luck?” the older boy nods over at the balloon/dart display, Jared following along, clueless. 

Jensen gives the lanky man, with a snapback hat and denim shirt covering his lithe frame, two of the tickets from his front pocket. The man looks bored but hands him the three darts with what could pass as a friendly smirk. 

Jensen aims one dart, only looking over briefly, his jade eyes catching Jared’s and that devil may care grin playing over his lips. His aim is true and he busts one of the balloons. The second throw causes one of the bright yellow, air-filled latex challenges to pop and his smile never fades. After the third one causes yet another crack, the attendant finally gives them a once over. 

Jensen doesn’t let the skeptical look of their witness dampen his victory, he just absorbs the absolute delight that is shining in Jared’s hazel eyes, his head tossed back in approval. “Pick your prize,” Jensen says, filing away the faint blush coming from his companion. Jared overlooks the collection of stuffed cartoon animals mixed in with the generic representations of a jungle. His gaze finally settles on a hot pink snake, then he wraps around his neck in a ridiculous display. 

Jensen beams at him, head tossed back and laughter light, the buzz from the corn mash and sugar singing in his blood while the dampness of the coming summer radiates out over his overheated, sensitive skin. Jared looks ridiculous and all kinds of adorable with the toy reptile in the gaudiest color on the planet coiled around his throat. Jared’s heart nearly stops in his throat when he sees Jensen’s smile, all white teeth, and flushed, pink-hued cheeks framing his plump, sinful mouth. Jared suddenly wonders what that mouth would feel like on his own, pressed together desperately somewhere where watchful eyes can’t see. The imagery is enough to have his own blush rising up his neck and face before he can make himself clear his throat and look away. 

Jensen seems unaffected by Jared’s sudden onset of nerves, his laugh is delightful and his eyes are dancing with wonder and joy. The older boy nods towards some of the rides, wordlessly dragging Jared through the crowd. 

They stop next to the tilt-a-whirl, Jensen raising his eyebrows into his hairline with a question, “ You wanna…” he doesn’t get the words out before Jared is leading him around the pitched rigging and to the front of the line. The fair is busy, but it is not packed full yet and it only takes a few moments before they are showing one of the men taking tickets, their wristbands, and then rushing to find their half-circle bucket that makes up the seating of the ride. 

Jared slides into the metal fixtures of the harness, the summer sun has left the surface warm to the touch, diamond plating rough against his exposed forearms as he makes room for his friend. Jensen slides in next to him, not super close, but not concerned with personal space too much. One of the ride attendants comes by and pulls on the bar that is locking the pair against their trappings, making sure that the safety device is working properly. Seconds pass, the cheerful carnival music getting louder as the bump and grind of machinery signals that the ride is starting. The half-moon section that they are in starts to spin to the left and Jared feels his body being slammed into the warm, solid mass of the boy next to him as the ride lurches in another direction, spinning them both around in the confines of their seat. Jared can’t stop his laugh, bubbling out of his chest of its own volition. 

The ride twists and turns, again and again, the music building up at a fever pitch as the contraption slings them against each other over and over again in a relentless pattern. Jared stops trying to keep it from happening halfway through, choosing instead to grab at Jensen’s thigh, where his muscular legs are straining against the denim as they continue to be at the mercy of the machine. Jensen only jerks slightly from the touch of the younger boy’s palm, before surrendering and then entangling his fingers into the ones clutching at his jean-covered skin. Just when he thinks the adrenaline and sweat are going to be too much and the cause for his undoing, the music, and momentum of the device slows down and then stops, and mechanical release signaling the end of their turn. 

The bar pops open and Jared stands, allowing his inner ear to stop spinning and the blood to return to his limbs and he grabs Jensen’s wrist and yanks him towards the exit of the contraption. They weave through the maze of other fairgoers, no one paying any attention to the young men as they all rush to the gate so that the next group of riders can take their turn. 

Jared doesn’t stop until he is dragging Jensen behind one of the tents set up for the cattle show, there are pickup trucks and gooseneck trailers parked on this side of the grounds and he stops just out of sight. Jensen starts to question what Jared is doing, but the taller boy pulls the silver flask that Jensen thought he put under his seat. “You little thief,” he says as he watches Jared uncap the container and take a swig. Jared smiles, eyes almost glossy with the alcohol and the adrenaline from the day as he hands over the flask. Jensen eyes him with an eyebrow raised but takes his own drink. 

Jared takes it back and coughs down another mouthful before handing it back, “I’m driving you to know, and I don’t want you sick.” 

Jared turns the top, sealing the contents inside, and puts it back in his back pocket, pulling his shirt down to mask the square shape. His dimples are cutting sharp grooves in his face, the humidity of the evening causing his hair to slightly curl around his ears and shirt collar. There is a rosy flush on his neck and chest and Jensen feels his heart drop into his stomach at how blindingly beautiful the boy in front of him is. 

Jared is sure that Jensen can hear his heart pounding like horses in the final lap of the Kentucky Derby, beating out a frantic rhythm in his chest and ears. He’s one hundred percent sure that he has never felt like this before. Jensen is looking back at him with the same wonder in his eyes and Jared closes his eyes and smashes their mouths together. 

His aim is a little off before he can correct it, but when he does,   
He knows that kissing girls are not the same. Jensen only takes a second before he is kissing back, cupping Jared’s face with calloused fingers, his thumbs pressing into the younger boy’s dimples as he slots their lips together at a better angle and licks at the seams of his opening, begging entrances. Jared immediately allows it and then the older boy’s tongue is mapping out the ridges of his palate and the tops of his molars before tangling their tongues together. 

Jared clutches at Jensen's strong biceps, the muscles solid and strong beneath his fingertips, and the skin smooth and superheated. It causes blood to pool low in his stomach and rush into his fattening erection that is starting to swell against his boxers. 

“Stop,” Jensen pulls back, places a hand on Jared’s chest when he tries to chase his retreating mouth. “Someone’s gonna see.”

“I don’t care,” Jared says and tries to advance again. 

“Well, I do. You are only seventeen and I’m twenty-two. Your grandfather will kill me. Not to mention, we are not exactly in the most accepting part of the world.” Jensen’s hand doesn’t falter, he steps back another foot and glances around, making sure that they haven’t been seen. 

“I don’t care that you are twenty-two. I’ll be eighteen and I’m not a child.” Jared knows that he sounds exactly like a child at this moment, but he can’t help it. 

“I never said you were,” Jensen says, his voice firm, but laced with affection. “But everyone else is not me and I can’t risk it, Jared.”

Jared deflates, he knows that the discussion is over for the moment and he feels bad for ruining the light-hearted mood of their night. He knows if he whines, he is just proving Jensen right about him being young and though it hurts, he pastes a smile back on and nods towards the attractions back inside the fair. 

Jensen’s heart clenches at how Jared’s face and posture have changed, but he is the adult and there is no way that he is going to risk taking advantage of the other boy. No matter what Jared says, the people in this town and Jared’s family won’t see it the same way. 

“Hungry?” Jensen asks, Jared is a growing boy and can seriously put away some food. He laughs at the grin and the speed at which his face lights up again. “Corndogs?”

“Mexican Hamburgers,” Jared replies and takes off in the direction of the concession’s trailers. Jensen chuckles again and follows after him, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. 

The trek doesn’t take but a minute and the line is moving quickly. They both order Mexican Hamburgers and Dr. Peppers with the shaved ice that you just can’t find in many places these days. Jared pays for the food, refusing to take any of Jensen’s money when he offers. They scope the picnic tables and find empty seats and sit across from each other on the bench, Jared taking his snake off his neck and hiding the flask next to it on the seat. 

The wax paper that the burgers are wrapped in is completely soaked in grease and Jensen, honest to God, moans when he takes a bite of the seasoned beef that is spread across the bun in his hands. 

“Good?” Jared asks, in a playful tone around his own bite. 

“These are the best Mexican Hamburgers ever,” Jensen nods, taking another bite before washing it down with the syrupy liquid of his drink. 

Jared’s megawatt smile is back, their near-miss behind the cattle pens forgotten for the moment as both finish their dinner and let the cool soda and the breeze from under the sheltered seating area cool them down from the unforgiving Texas heat. The sounds from the rides and voices coming across the wired P.A. Systems from the animal competitions are still happening around them, but all of that has faded to the background. 

“What next?’ Jensen asks, perfectly content to let Jared drag him all over the place if his smile and laugh will stay. 

Jared wads up the paper in his hand, takes a measured sip of his soda, and then rests his index finger in the dip of his chin, face pensive as he considers his options. The sun has finally set and the lights all around are twinkling brightly into the night. “This way,” Jared finally decides and gathers their trash up to throw away. 

Jensen allows him to lead the way, the taller boy making a beeline for the bumper cars. They both flash their bands and then Jared runs for a blue car, while Jensen slides into a red one. There are another couple of teenage boys in their own cars, a man with a girl of about ten and a teenage girl already zipping around the area. 

Jared floors it and slams into the side of Jensen’s car before he can get turned around, but soon he is slamming into one of the other boys on the ride. The man with the girl slams into him, and they both knock each other a bit before the ride comes to a stop. There is so much laughter filling the area, Jensen’s cheeks hurt from the permanent smile that has been plastered on his face. 

He lets Jared drag him to the ring toss, where he wins a feather and Jared wins a pair of fuzzy dice. To the shooting gallery, where Jensen just does beat Jared to be awarded a blow-up smiley face that he gives to his companion. Jared’s loss is forgotten as he takes the plastic, yellow thing and tucks it under his arm. 

By the time they have ridden the scrambler, the kick-booty swings, the tornado, and the small roller coaster, they are both beginning to feel the excitement and sugar crashing and the fatigue. Jensen leads Jared to one last ride, the Ferris wheel and they wedge into the seat together. 

The sounds and lights are at a fever pitch in the night air that has cooled considerably but is nowhere near cold, as the metal gears and pulleys start to turn and lift them both high into the air. They stop several times along the way to the top, both looking out over the grounds and the people below. 

The flashing glow of the attractions and music is so different at this level, but Jensen finds his gaze drawn to the beautiful boy that is seated next to him. Jared finally turns his head when the wheel stops at the top to let more passengers on. Jensen’s eyes are burning brightly, the green a mere sliver as he stares into his hazel orbs. They are whisked away from the rest of the world and out of sight of everyone else, this high up, and Jensen can’t take it anymore. The want and affection he feels for Jared bubbles up to the surfaces and he crashes their mouths together. 

Jared gasps, surprise evident as Jensen was just telling him that he didn’t want anyone to see them, but he guesses they are safe at this moment and leans into the kiss. It's wetter and more frantic than the one before and grabs at Jensen’s t-shirt while the other boy eats at his mouth. Stubble and teeth are added to the mix as Jensen nips and lightly bites at his lower lip and then across his jaw. Where the older of the pair has his hand against Jared’s back, the heat is seeping through the fabric and Jared is light-headed. 

They are only joined for a few seconds, the ride jerking into motion, sending them forward almost weightlessly. Jensen pulls away, unsure if his heart dipping into his gut is from gravity or from being this close to Jared. If he’s a hundred percent honest, it is probably both. 

Jensen tries to look out over the landscape as the circular, steel machine sends them whipping through the air and coming back up the other side, but the blush on Jared’s chiseled cheeks, the shining of his multicolored irises, and quick breaths that are causing his nostrils to slightly flair is the most intoxicating thing that he has ever seen and he couldn’t look away if a team of wild horses was hitched up to his corneas. Both are gobsmacked and awe-struck, gazing across the space, heat seeping through two layers of denim and cotton along their thighs as the grumbling mechanism comes to a stop at the bottom. 

Jensen makes himself look down as the attendant lets them out of the trappings of the safety bar and then steps off of the platform, the blood rushing back into his head as he shakes off the last vestiges of the ride. His heart is still thundering, exhilaration coursing through all of his veins and out his pores. 

Jared stops right after exiting the ride, the familiar form of his uncle coming into view behind the livestock gates. The pair creep up next to the two older men, David shutting the door on the trailer as Harold comes into view from the other side of the vehicle. 

“You boys have a good time?” Harold asks, eyeing the pink snake and other nonsense trinkets that they are carrying, but not mentioning them. 

“We did,” Jared’s hair is damp and his eyes are clear, a mischievous glint sparkling in them. 

“Pink is your color,” David says, with a teasing tone, tugging on the end of the plushie. 

Jared cackles, the sound is damn near angelic and Jensen doesn’t think he has ever heard something so innocent and at the same time so downright attractive that flames of lust start singeing the inside of his ribcage. His chest is going to explode from all of the emotions that he is feeling from just being here, close to Jared when he is this happy. 

“Are y’all heading home?” the youngest of the quartet’s accent tangles around his words, he is starting to feel the high that they both have been riding all night come trickling down, leaving him content, but sleepy. 

“Yeah, probably time for you boys to call it a night, too.” Harold takes off his hat and scratches his head, he checks the time on his watch and nods at David. 

“Yes, sir,” Jensen says, if he’s honest with himself, tonight has worn him out just as much as the work on the farm. They say their “See ya, laters,” and head back to the front of the establishment. Shoulders bumping as they leave the smells and sounds behind and Jensen opens the car door. 

Jared sinks into the leather of the seat, it is still warm, but not hot, and soft against his back and legs. He closes his eyes and rests his head back, he can still feel the electricity and excitement pulsing through his body when Jensen turns over the ignition and pops the clutch. 

The Camaro roars to life, vibrations rising up through the undercarriage and churning out all three hundred and fifty horses of pure Detroit muscle. 

The ride to the farm is filled with sounds from the radio, Joe Walsh crooning about life being good, and Jensen singing along at just above a whisper, keeping beat with the drumming of his hands on the covered steering wheel. Jared is content to just take in what feels like the start of something. He has no idea what, but he knows that it is going to change his life like nothing else. 

Jensen shuts the car off once they safely arrive at home, pulling the car back under the carport next to the Cadillac that belonged to Harold’s wife. He only drives it now to church on Sundays and once at the beginning of June to a funeral. 

The crickets and nocturnal critters of the area are the only sound when Jared turns in his seat to look at Jensen in the small sliver of moonlight and low glow from one of the security lights. “I, um,” he rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head and trying not to be the kid that everyone thinks he is. “I had a really good time tonight, Jensen. And I understand what you mean about not letting people see, at least not right now.”

The sparse light is just enough for Jensen to see how absolutely adorable the boy seated next to him looks right now, his lower lip pulled between incisors. He wants to grab him and kiss him breathless. What he finally decides on is leaning forward and placing a couple of innocent pecks on Jared’s waiting mouth, then one on his nose. “I had a good time, too.” Jensen hasn’t actually been on a date in a long time and even though this wasn’t a date, he can’t help how much he wants to do this the right way. “We need to go inside and get some sleep. Maybe we can take lunch out to the river tomorrow?”

Jared nods his head in agreement and both climb out of the car and makes their way into the house. Jensen tells him goodnight as he disappears in the bathroom and Jared loops his snake around his bedpost, tacks his dice and the tag from the smiley face balloon on his corkboard. 

After Jared washes up, teeth brushed, and settled down against his pillows, he plays the kiss in the Ferris Wheel in his head over and over again until falls asleep, dreaming of strawberries and the sunny riverbank.


End file.
